


Unacceptable, Try Again

by BlueMasquerade



Series: Fictober 2020 [5]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: First Kiss, Hurt Stiles Stilinski, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, fictober20
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:08:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26941909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueMasquerade/pseuds/BlueMasquerade
Summary: Guilt and fear twisted together in Derek’s stomach, making an uncomfortable knot. This was his fault, again. Stiles was hurt, again. Another monster of the week trying to wreak havoc in Beacon Hills, another fight that Stiles jumped into the middle of, another injury.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Series: Fictober 2020 [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1954636
Comments: 6
Kudos: 204





	Unacceptable, Try Again

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Fictober 2020.
> 
> Prompt #5: "Unacceptable, try again"
> 
> The prompts are from https://fictober-event.tumblr.com/prompts20.

Sheriff Stilinski looked exhausted. He didn’t even look up when Derek walked into the hospital room, not immediately. His gaze was focused on the bed, on his son lying in the hospital bed.

Guilt and fear twisted together in Derek’s stomach, making an uncomfortable knot. This was his fault, again. Stiles was hurt, again. Another monster of the week trying to wreak havoc in Beacon Hills, another fight that Stiles jumped into the middle of, another injury.

“He’s getting better,” Noah said, finally turning his head towards Derek. “They think he should come out of it soon.” He patted Stiles on the hand. “Though ‘soon’ could be ten minutes, or ten hours.”

Derek nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He hated this, hating seeing Stiles all quiet and pale and hooked up to tubes keeping him drugged and hydrated. Humans were so frail. Precious, but frail.

“It’s not your fault, you know.” The Sheriff stood up, reached out to clasp Derek on the shoulder. “Stiles is… Stiles. He’d be throwing himself into things whether or not you’d ever entered the scene.”

“Not this type of thing,” Derek objected, bitterness coloring his tone. He just wanted… he wanted so many things, but more than anything, he wanted to be able to keep the people he cared about safe.

Noah snorted. “Are we talking about the same person? Yes, this type of thing. He’s got an outsized sense of responsibility, and when you mix that with his loyalty to his friend? This is what you get. I’m proud of the kid. He’s responsible for every gray hair on my head, but he’s grown into a good man.” He met Derek’s gaze. “So have you. I’m glad you’re here for him. Keep an eye on him until I get back, ok? And text me if anything happens.”

“Yes, sir. I will.” He nodded and remained standing at the foot of the bed until the Sheriff left, the door swinging shut behind him.

Derek moved around to the side of the hospital bed, sitting down on the still-warm chair. “Hey, Stiles,” he said quietly. “Your dad had to go for a while, but I’ll stay with you so you’re not alone, okay? You’re looking… better, I guess.” Compared to what he’d looked like right after the ghoul tossed him into the tree, he certainly looked better. At least it hadn’t gotten to take a chomp out of his side, like it had with Isaac. That had been ugly, too, but Isaac had mostly healed before they even got Stiles out of the forest.

He couldn’t unsee the horror of Stiles flung through the air, smacking his head against the tree trunk and slumping over, motionless. Even now the memory sent a shock of terror through him.

Derek reached out to cover Stiles’ hand, careful not to move it too much and risk dislodging any of the IV tubes. They shouldn’t be that delicate, but he didn’t want to take any chances. Lacing their fingers together, he brushed his thumb over the paper-thin skin of Stiles’ wrist, reassuring himself with the steady pulse. He reached out to pull the pain, pleasantly surprised that it wasn’t that bad. Some if not most of that was likely due to the painkillers dripping into his veins. Derek was okay with that.

He didn’t want Stiles to be hurting.

“I hate that you’re here. I know you hate the hospital. I’m glad they’re taking good care of you, but. You have to stop rushing in as though you can’t get hurt, okay? I can’t… I can’t lose you too.” He screwed his eyes shut, trying to block his emotions inside the way he always did.

“Dammit, Stiles.” He tightened his grip on his hand, sat up more, looking down at his face. It was wrong to see him so still. He was always so animated, his big eyes sparkling with humor and mischief, with intelligence.

Derek made a wounded sound and reached over to brush a stray wisp of hair away from his face. Acting on impulse, he half stood, leaning across the bed to brush a kiss across the corner of Stiles’ mouth, lingering there for a moment. He could feel the moist warmth of Stiles’ breath against his cheek. For a moment he imagined there was a hitch in his breath, a flicker of movement in his lips.

He closed his eyes against the pain.

“Unacceptable.”

Derek jerked up, eyes going wide as he stared down.

His lashes fluttered, then his eyes blinked open. His tongue flickered out to moisten his lips. “Unacceptable,” he repeated, his voice raspy. Raspy or not, he was talking! He turned his head slightly to the side, blinking again as he focused on Derek. “Try again.”

“Stiles?”

He turned his hand over and wiggled his fingers. “If you’re going to kiss me, do it right. Been waiting. Feels like forever. Then you cheat when you think I’m unconscious? I don’t think so, big guy.”

Derek huffed a last. “You’re awake,” he said, fully aware he was stating the obvious.

“Yeah. Sleeping beauty.” Stiles blinked again, and shyly smiled, squeezed Derek’s fingers. “So. Going to follow through?” He tipped his head back and closed his eyes.

He was acting all flippant, but Derek could hear the way his heart was pounding, could smell the nervousness under the bravado.

“You’re an idiot,” he murmured, leaning down again. He hovered a breath away from Stiles’ lips, hesitating, committing the moment to memory. Before Stiles could say another word, he closed the remaining distance between them.

Stiles sighed against his lips, pressing up into him.

Cognizant that Stiles had only just regained consciousness, Derek didn’t let it last more than an instant. Stiles made a complaining sound when he lifted away again.

Derek dropped a kiss on his forehead. “Consider that a teaser,” he huskily said. “Incentive to get better. When you’re out of here, we’ll… I’ll take you to dinner. If that’s okay?”

Stiles smiled happily. “As a date?”

“Yes, Stiles. A date.”

“Then hell yes.”


End file.
